Friday, November 27, 2015

Little Girl, Lost

Have you ever kept something to yourself for so long that it finally just bursts out? You know, the beach ball you've been holding under the surface of the water only until it comes bounding through the water with such strength you can no longer control it? I'm there. My beach ball is coming forth with unstoppable force. I think it wants to see the light of the sun shining above the watery grave in which I've been holding it. My favorite comedian Chonda Pierce recently stated that "Everything that you drag out of the dark into light has no more power over you." So, for better or worse, I'm going to pull this particular story out of the dark and into the light. It will be just the beginning, and many details will be kept to myself, but this process must commence.

My daughter. My beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, daughter. My scarred, damaged, torn, lost daughter. I love you more than I could ever say. I love you more than a blog post could ever describe. You are my daughter. You are a frightened little girl inside. You are hiding behind the mask of adulthood and independent living.

You are my little girl, lost.

How could anyone expect you to not be hiding? You grew up too fast. You were the victim of poor choices. You experienced a life that no one should experience. You were lost in a vast black hole of abuse and horror that no one can imagine. All Dad and I have wanted to do is to show you that you are loved, to protect you, and to give you a better life...

How long will you stay lost? It's your choice now.

To be continued...



Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Yes, Dear Reader, I am still here!

The blog world seems to be moving toward extinction, well at least my blog world. With the proliferation of Facebook, blogs are becoming a smaller vehicle for expressing one's self. But, I am endeavoring once again to record my experiences in a blog format. I have a deep urge to write about my life, and Facebook just doesn't cut it- just too much immaturity and re-posting of junk. So, even if no one else wanders this way on their browser, I'll be using this page to get some of my personal junk out of my head. **WARNING** There may be a slight bent towards melancholy for a while, but God is with me still and has never left. Even in the melancholy, I will praise HIM.

Unless you are family or close friends, you've really no idea what the last several years of my life have entailed. I find myself in a weird place in time. The last five years have been a very specific season in my existence and I am not exactly sure what to call the new season. My own life story might send some readers snoozing, but I hope that it may also instill hope in others.

Perhaps starting at the present and looking backward might be the easiest approach...

My feet are tired today from only a few hours in a classroom. I had my first substitute teaching job today after a break of more than five months. Thankfully, it was just an afternoon job to ease me back into the swing of things. The job came at a very important time in my new season. First, I need to make some money!! Debt is a horrible thing and my husband and I are trying to kick it to the curb. Secondly, I need to get out of my house. Nothing says "depression waiting to happen" like a lonely woman in an empty house. It's hard to go from having a daughter and a grandson living with you to not having them here at all. My husband is wonderful, but when he's at work, the house gets very lonely. And, lastly, I needed this dose of reality to get confirmation in my soul about my next transition. I AM SO TIRED OF TEACHING. Today solidified a desire in me to go back to school and start all over. Not only is my area of expertise not conducive to living the Army spouse life, spending time in a classroom just pours salt into a very deep personal wound. It is not possible for me to teach students without being emotionally affected by memories and thoughts of my daughter. At this juncture, the thought of my daughter not being in my life is just too raw and heartbreaking. I'll spare the details of this particular wound for another post.

Until next time, please pray for my husband and me as we learn to live life away from our daughter and our grandson. God has a plan. I'm not privy to it, but I don't have to be.